I've been living in haikuville
for three long years you see,
But I'm closing-up my little hut
its way past time to leave!
I book a train to Kathmandu
and settle in my seat,
I try to write a Sonnet, Alas,
a haiku most concrete.
is stuck inside my head, and so I lodge my finger in,
Three perfect lines, five / seven / five,
spill on my page instead.
The train is swaying forth and back
upon the snowy mountain,
I see a snail beside the track, climbing very slow,
I think about Mt. Fuji, another haiku poem!
My eyes are getting heavy
I fall asleep and dream,
cherry blossoms in my soup
& tea with clotted cream.
"Oh No! Basho! What can I do?
I fall asleep, instead of sheep, I dream about haiku!"
The train is on the mountaintop
in a six-foot drift of snow,
I look outside my window
three-thousand feet below,
"I'd like to say that I escaped, but even in Kathmandu,
I wake and sleep and think and speak and drink and eat haiku!"
the snail didn't make it